Static Shock fic - And Each Slow Dusk
Sep. 3rd, 2006 05:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
onemuseleftGod help the Static Shock fandom - I'm dipping my toe in.
Title: And Each Slow Dusk
Fandom: Static Shock
Pairings: Sharon/Adam
Warnings Spoilers for A Better World
And Each Slow Dusk
People still recognize him on the streets and ask for his autograph, but he always turns them away as politely as he can, with a smile and a shrug and his thanks.
He misses music. More than the crowds and the fans and the lights of the cameras, he misses the music. The way it felt when a piece slid together into a new song and he knew he'd made something no one else could have. Sometimes songs still come to him, when he's about to fall asleep, or day dreaming in front of the TV, notes haunting the edges of his mind and tunes demanding he give them voice. In the early days a drink would chase the music away long enough for him to focus on something else, but he can't risk getting a weakness for it. He can't ever, ever lose control.
Meta-humans who let their control slip, even for a second, go away and never come back.
His son is almost a year old now and Adam is convinced he's a genius, though Sharon, who was old enough to remember her brother at that age, insists that Toby is just a normal little boy. He thinks some of her insistence might be fear-based; after all, Toby has a meta-human for a father, and there's always the chance that he'll come under scrutiny one day. So far the Big Bang effects haven't proven inheritable, but there's always a first time. Adam and Sharon keep a close eye out for any sign that Toby's more than a normal human.
Late at night, when the music gets inside his mind and doesn't let him sleep, he slips out of bed – usually managing not to wake Sharon, though he thinks she's more aware of his leaving than he admits – and pads barefoot down the hall of their apartment to the nursery. It's a small room, about seven by nine feet, with one little window, and one day when Toby is older they may need to consider getting a bigger place. For now it's big enough to hold a crib and a small dresser and a rocking chair.
Holding Toby works against the music like nothing else does.
On nights when he's trying to forget more than the music, Toby is his greatest weakness.
On those nights, when he remembers the days when he fought the bad guys, instead of hiding from them, he wonders what kind of world his son will grow up in.
Sharon's footsteps are quiet in the hall, but there's a spot where the floor creaks, so he hears her before she pushes the nursery door open and slips into the room. She's beautiful in the darkness and he can smell her shampoo and the moisturizer she uses as she kneels beside the chair. Her fingers brush against Toby's cheek, but her eyes are on him.
What kind of world is there for any of them? Sharon's normal, but even that's not enough when speaking your mind can cost you your job, your reputation and your life. Sharon isn’t good at holding her tongue, either. One day, Adam knows, she'll have a chance to bring her brother's murderers to justice and then she'll stop hiding.
One day he will, too. On nights like tonight, he thinks it will be sooner than later.
He presses a kiss against his wife's temple, and the scent of her hair is enough to push away the anger, but nothing is enough to push away the images anymore.
"One day," he murmurs very quietly, because everything has ears, "one day I won't be able to take it anymore."
Sharon just nods and looks so damned proud of him. It stings a little, because he's talking about doing something that could get him killed, but he also knows that if he were really the kind of guy who could sit back and let the world become what it's becoming, then she wouldn't love him.
He won't let himself become the kind of man Sharon couldn't love. Nothing terrifies him more. Not even the Justice Lords.
Title: And Each Slow Dusk
Fandom: Static Shock
Pairings: Sharon/Adam
Warnings Spoilers for A Better World
And Each Slow Dusk
People still recognize him on the streets and ask for his autograph, but he always turns them away as politely as he can, with a smile and a shrug and his thanks.
He misses music. More than the crowds and the fans and the lights of the cameras, he misses the music. The way it felt when a piece slid together into a new song and he knew he'd made something no one else could have. Sometimes songs still come to him, when he's about to fall asleep, or day dreaming in front of the TV, notes haunting the edges of his mind and tunes demanding he give them voice. In the early days a drink would chase the music away long enough for him to focus on something else, but he can't risk getting a weakness for it. He can't ever, ever lose control.
Meta-humans who let their control slip, even for a second, go away and never come back.
His son is almost a year old now and Adam is convinced he's a genius, though Sharon, who was old enough to remember her brother at that age, insists that Toby is just a normal little boy. He thinks some of her insistence might be fear-based; after all, Toby has a meta-human for a father, and there's always the chance that he'll come under scrutiny one day. So far the Big Bang effects haven't proven inheritable, but there's always a first time. Adam and Sharon keep a close eye out for any sign that Toby's more than a normal human.
Late at night, when the music gets inside his mind and doesn't let him sleep, he slips out of bed – usually managing not to wake Sharon, though he thinks she's more aware of his leaving than he admits – and pads barefoot down the hall of their apartment to the nursery. It's a small room, about seven by nine feet, with one little window, and one day when Toby is older they may need to consider getting a bigger place. For now it's big enough to hold a crib and a small dresser and a rocking chair.
Holding Toby works against the music like nothing else does.
On nights when he's trying to forget more than the music, Toby is his greatest weakness.
On those nights, when he remembers the days when he fought the bad guys, instead of hiding from them, he wonders what kind of world his son will grow up in.
Sharon's footsteps are quiet in the hall, but there's a spot where the floor creaks, so he hears her before she pushes the nursery door open and slips into the room. She's beautiful in the darkness and he can smell her shampoo and the moisturizer she uses as she kneels beside the chair. Her fingers brush against Toby's cheek, but her eyes are on him.
What kind of world is there for any of them? Sharon's normal, but even that's not enough when speaking your mind can cost you your job, your reputation and your life. Sharon isn’t good at holding her tongue, either. One day, Adam knows, she'll have a chance to bring her brother's murderers to justice and then she'll stop hiding.
One day he will, too. On nights like tonight, he thinks it will be sooner than later.
He presses a kiss against his wife's temple, and the scent of her hair is enough to push away the anger, but nothing is enough to push away the images anymore.
"One day," he murmurs very quietly, because everything has ears, "one day I won't be able to take it anymore."
Sharon just nods and looks so damned proud of him. It stings a little, because he's talking about doing something that could get him killed, but he also knows that if he were really the kind of guy who could sit back and let the world become what it's becoming, then she wouldn't love him.
He won't let himself become the kind of man Sharon couldn't love. Nothing terrifies him more. Not even the Justice Lords.
